Incite
by FluffDucklings
Summary: From the Marauders' first meeting to Harry's troubles in the infamous Cupboard to the Next Generation's antics, 100 prompts explore the lives of various characters of the Harry Potter Universe. Popular and crack pairings - rating varies.
1. Introduction

**The first of 100 one-word prompts! Uploaded as a gift to myself (and yourselves of course~) for finally enrolling in class for college~!**

**I don't own any of these characters as they belong to the lovely and wonderful Lady Rowling.**

**I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did while writing it!**

* * *

Sirius Orion Black had known James Harold Potter for many years; such was the ways of the pure-blooded society.

They were distant cousins once removed or was it thrice replaced? Sirius didn't really care either way as he and James were nearly inseparable.

And now they were headed to one of the most magical places in the world.

But first, they had to endure an arduous seven hour train ride from London to somewhere in northern Scotland, so the two boys hiked up their robes and set off to meet as many of their potential dorm mates as possible.

The first two had been a rather odd couple. A rather pretty red headed girl who just screamed Ravenclaw was sitting amicably with a greasy old Slytherin, who had (as Sirius would later tell it) hissed at them before they even had the door open.

Bypassing any compartments with similar greasy old Slytherins (and any odd Hufflepuffs), James and Sirius met quite a handful of interesting people.

A large black boy, whose chest was nearly as broad as James and Sirius themselves and biceps just as impressive, was the first of their handful. He'd introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebot and told them that he was a third year Gryffindor.

The two most notable of the people James and Sirius had met were ordinary and plain looking. The first was a pudgy boy named Peter Pettigrew, who, though was a pure-blood like James and Sirius themselves, was not of the same caliber.

Peter had short, neatly cut blond hair and sweets bought off the candy trolley falling out of his pockets. He introduced himself excitedly and nearly tripped over his robes that were a tad too long (and which were obviously meant for him to grow into).

The second was a scrawny brunet who had dark circles under his eyes and seemed to look like death warmed-up. Remus Lupin was a half-blood whose father had been originally from a pure-blooded lineage until he runaway with his Muggleborn wife and concocted Remus himself. He shook both their hands (both noticing the steady trembling as they did) amicably.

"I don't suppose you know what Houses you two are going to be Sorted into do you?" Sirius asked as he sat opposite of Remus, snagging a licorice wand from Peter.


	2. Love

**I really like this one! Wanna know why? Because there's Kingsley/Remus~! There just isn't enough K/R in the world!**

* * *

The school didn't really know when it happened.

The Marauders sort of just woke up one snowy morning and found it in play.

And Remus really was just lost for words as to how exactly it happened.

He was in love.

Completely and irrevocably in love.

Kingsley Shacklebot was a seventh year Gryffindor on the Quidditch team and got fantastic marks on exams. He was also incredibly kind and sweet beneath his tough and buff exterior.

And scrawny fifth year Remus Lupin just didn't know how he had snagged such a perfect guy.

Kingsley waited outside the portrait tunnel for Remus in the mornings and escorted him to breakfast where they chatted and pecked each other's cheeks. Then he checked Remus with the Marauders until lunch where they would sit outside on the chilly lawn in loving silence. Supper was with Marauders who accepted Kingsley on the conditions that Remus always smiled with him. (It was a known fact that if ever one of the three remaining Marauders found Remus with anything less than a smirk of amusement, that Kingsley would find himself in a promised hospital wing bed.) Nights were reserved for cuddling and snogging and petting. And once (at the end of term before Christmas) for a bit further than cuddling and snogging and petting.

Remus's chest swelled to burst with the mere thought of his relationship and the acceptance of his friends and family. He thought that maybe _this_ – this holding of hands, knowing silence, and waking up in each other's arms – was what a normal person should feel like. Someone who had done nothing to deserve such a plethora of kindness and yet drank it up with the utmost of humblest manners.


	3. Light

**Eh...**

* * *

The Light side didn't always look its best. Honestly, it was the side that took the hardest blows during the war.

Innocent bystanders, families and friends, were killed while its warriors fought till the brink of death to try and bring the masked crusaders down.

The Light never looked as promising as the Order wanted it to. Their rag-tag team of newly graduated students and retired Aurors never were enough to keep morale up.

When partners started coming back alone and secret missions came into play, trust and loyalty were questioned and the Light weakened.

A prophecy was given and members were lost, some forever, some temporarily, and some just gave up, not losing hope, but having just lost their reasons to fight anymore.

But there was one shred of hope, one last remaining ray of goodness in the darkest hours for the Light. The Boy Who Lived was well and protected and the Dark Lord was gone. For how long, no one knew, but the Light grasped onto that last inkling of possibility and quietly regrouped as they waited for the Boy Who Lived to grow into their final opportunity.


	4. Dark

**I absolutely love little Harry. He's just too darn cute for his own good.**

* * *

The cupboard under the stairs was dusty and cold and most importantly dark.

Little Harry could never see an inch in front of him when he was locked into his cupboard for burning supper or not letting Aunt Marge's dog, Ripper, chase him long enough, or just because Uncle Vernon couldn't stand to look at the "little blighter anymore."

The dark wasn't fun.

It never was.

The dark was where Harry could remember a flash of green – practically see it in his tiny cupboard – and hear a woman screaming, begging. He didn't like the flashes or the screaming. He felt bad for the woman, whoever she was, for whatever it was she was screaming and begging for so desperately. He always hoped she had gotten whatever it was she wanted.

The dark was where Harry would spend most of his time thinking of when Primary school would start back up again after the summer holidays were finally over or when the Durselys would go on their next vacation and send little Harry over to Mrs. Figg's house (because it was so much better than the cupboard) or when Aunt Petunia would finally let him out (even if it was just to cook the bacon again).

The dark was where Harry was supposed to be learning his lessons, as Uncle Vernon said. If you stop being such a freak, then you may earn a bedroom. If you don't burn the bacon, you may have a bit of breakfast. If you don't pester your dear cousin, you may not have to spend so much time in the dark.

The dark is where Harry always ended up, no matter what he did.


	5. Seeking Solace

**Really love Teddy.**

* * *

Theodore Remus Lupin liked to sit alone in his grandmother's attic on sleepy summer days.

The attic is where he had most of his memories and the attic is where his parents lived.

There weren't many pictures of his mum or dad together, but he did find a whole box worth of his mum as a baby and her whole childhood. His father's pictures were older and not as plenty. There were a few of him as an infant and then as a smiling toddler, but then there were none until his days at Hogwarts.

Of course, he knew the reasoning behind the lack of pictures. His Gran had told him that the Lupins, his father and his parents, did not have an easy life. His father was bitten by a werewolf at the age of six and had nothing to smile about in pictures. It was not until he had turned eleven that Remus Lupin had smiled again.

The pictures of Teddy's father in his years at Hogwarts were one of his most cherished possessions.

The small hesitant smile that slipped all too easily on First Year Remus was bittersweet compared to the flashing, full out grin on Seventh Year Remus's happy face as he stood beside his best friends.

There was a diary of Remus's from his childhood in one of the dusty old boxes as well. It told Teddy all about his father's deepest fears and wants and secrets.

It was there he learned that his father didn't understand why everyone hated him so easily when he was young, he learned that his father had been terrified of attending Hogwarts (there were several listed scenarios that Remus had thought up in the months leading up to his first train ride to Scotland of ways his secret would be found out, none ending happily). It was where he found that his mum had not been his father's first love, nor his second, but his third.

It was odd, odd, but not upsetting to Teddy to find out that his father had dated the current Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebot in his fifth year or that he had then gotten together with his best friend Sirius Black in his sixth year and up until that faithful day that Teddy's own Godfather's parents were murdered. Then his father had met Tonks some fourteen years later and Teddy was there before they knew it.

There was one picture he never dared leave anywhere without as it was the only one he'd been able to find. It was of his mum, holding an infant Teddy to her chest as he cooed and drooled and changed the colour of his hair to match his mother's. His father held them both in his arms as he smiled warmly, a look of almost disbelief as if he dared not think of those two perfect people belonging to him – his own family.

Teddy never was able to look at it long before his throat tightened achingly and tears sprung up annoyingly.

But every time he cried up in his Gran's dusty old attic on those sleepy old summer days, he was never sad and he always left with a skip in his step because even though he never got to know his parents, he was proud to know that they had not died hopelessly or without cause.


	6. Break Away

**Rebel Sirius is amazing~**

* * *

Sirius Black never had much of a reason to live. Even though he had only lived a short, yet, lonely eleven years, he had always waited for that special something to come along so that he could feel that spark inside himself as he figured out that, _hey!_ _someone or something really needs me so I don't have to be this mindless drone that spouts off nonsensical pure-blooded shit that has been spoon fed to me by an insane and deranged House-Elf who looks up to my equally (but probably a thousand times more) insane and deranged Mother._

When he'd finally found that someone (and something), he'd been in his fifth year at Hogwarts. He was fifteen going on sixteen and had just found out that he was in love with his very male best friend who also happened to be very "not on the market" as James had put it.

With that epiphany in mind, Sirius wrote home (in explicit detail, mind) to his mother and explained all the ways he was attracted to his very male best friend who was very "not on the market" and how he was going to wait for said very male best friend until he was very "up for sale" to do very "un-pure-blooded things" to him.

Sirius took pleasure in the Howler that had came at breakfast the following week that shouted (in a very non pure-blooded fashion) about the abomination that Walburga's loins had created. Her screeching banshee voice filled and echoed around the Great Hall as all of its inhabitants had frozen in their merry breakfast goings-on to listen to the heir of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black (_the_ heir of all heirs) be called a no good, filthy, Muggle obsessed, shirt-lifting, blood-traitor who was never again henceforth allowed inside the esteemed House of Black for as long as he keeps up this act of rebellion. And that he was no son of hers, effectively disowning him and shifting all rights of the heir to Regulus, Sirius's little brother.

After the Howler had done its job and shredded itself into Sirius's bowl of porridge, the Great Hall still in a sort of shock, did Sirius stand up and applaud, saying loudly to James that it "took her long enough."


	7. Heaven

**Uber short but...**

* * *

If there was a Heaven on Earth, Hogwarts would be that place.

Nearly every single child who had ever crossed the Black Lake in those rickety old four-person boats and had seen the Hogwarts Castle lit up and sparkling like some kind Northern Star that was leading them forwards to their future had thought that.

That giant castle with its hidden passages and talking portraits and its magnificent feats at every holiday was so warm and inviting for all the generations.

The classrooms were always full and bustling; the corridors packed with exciting chatter; the common rooms filled with your friends and family-away-from-home.

Definitely, Hogwarts was Heaven on Earth.


	8. Innocence

**The closest thing I've written to slash. :'3 A 'right before' scene.**

* * *

Remus was fifteen. He knew that. He knew that very well. He also knew very well that Kingsley was seventeen and about to graduate to go on and start training as an Auror.

But Remus didn't care.

Remus was in love.

Kingsley was one of such a tiny number of people who actually cared for Remus. Kingsley didn't cast him off to the side because of his shyness or his… _condition_.

Kingsley was in love.

Of course, being the gentleman Kingsley had been drilled to be, he more often than not goaded Remus to make sure he was fine with the age difference, the gap in school years.

"Christmas is soon," Kingsley said offhandedly on morning during breakfast.

He was sitting with Remus (really, it was more of Remus sitting in his lap) and the other Marauders.

"Planning on getting our dear Moony something?" Black said.

James and Peter snickered and 'dear Moony' blushed shyly.

"Actually, yes, yes I am."

Sirius shut up.

"Oh? What are you getting me, King?"

"A surprise."

James catcalled. Peter snorted into his porridge and Sirius muttered darkly under his breath.

"Then I won't tell you your present," Remus countered.

The Gryffindor Common Room was quiet. Quite an eerie thing considering it was during the seven year reign of The Marauders. But it was a welcomed and nice quiet nonetheless.

Kingsley and Remus (the only two Gryffindors left in the castle this lovely winter holiday) were sat curled in front of the fire. It crackled warmly as the two boys drank from steamy mugs of cocoa.

"This is a very nice evening, King," Remus commented. "A wonderful Christmas present. Thank you."

"Ah," Kingsley started. "This is just the beginning of a very lovely evening, my dear Remus." With that, Kingsley stood up, taking Remus's hand in his own and leading him to the fifth years' dormitory.

"What's going on King?"

"We've been together since the beginning of the year, Rem," Kingsley started, sitting both of them on Remus's immaculate bed. To that, Remus nodded and waited for Kingsley to continue.

"And we will be together for the rest of the year, maybe even after school."

"Of course, King. I would love to stay together during the summer and… After your graduate." He smiled a bit uncertainly. "But, what are you talking about."

With a wave of his wand, Kingsley shut the door and opened the heavy red curtains to let the moonlight into the darkened room, casting a delicious glow over the two of them.

"I've been thinking for a while, Remus, and I – if, and _only_ if would want to – I want to go a bit further."

After a few awkward moments when Kingsley thought that Remus would be disgusted with the idea or scold him for saying such a thing, Remus did the thing he always did when faced with an embarrassing or rather awkward situation like the once presenting itself to him: he blushed.

"G-Go further? As in—"

"Yes," Kingsley said quickly. "But if you don't want to, I understand completely. God, I'm sorry. I-I wasn't even thinking – not about everything else – when I thought of the idea. God, Remus, don't think ill of me for asking this."

Kingsley stopped in his ranting when he felt Remus's hand over his own.

"No, I don't think ill of you for asking. I mean," Remus gave Kingsley a mischievous grin (the same one he used when plotting a Marauder prank), "you're a guy after all – and we do think of those things often, no?"

Remus scooted back against the headboard and Kingsley turned to face him, sitting cross-legged.

"I've been thinking too, King," he said quietly. "But, even though I would love to stay together – as a couple – after you've graduated, I know we can't. Once you start your Auror training, you can't ever mention me or they may use it against you.

"But… I would love to share that with you.."

"You mean—"

"I would love to go further, as you put it." Remus smiled shyly across the bed.


	9. Drive

**Um... mooning Sirius~**

* * *

In his fifth year, Sirius felt his most lonely.

James, his best mate, was starting his long trek for the "girl of his dreams" while Peter explored that new diet program his mother had sent him.

And Remus, well Remus was occupied as well.

But Sirius… He had nothing going for him.

He tried studying (_hah!_), then solo-pranking (too risky), then helping James with Evans (_ugh_), then… Nothing.

He watched Remus from the end of the table during meals when he was otherwise occupied with a Mister Shacklebot with longing glances. He watched Remus to make sure he was happy with Mister Shacklebot. He watched Remus as he smiled and laughed and blushed at Mister Shacklebot. He watched as he wished he was Mister Shacklebot.

Sirius thought maybe it was then that he realized that he mooned for Moony.


	10. Breath Again

**There have been hundreds of transformation scenes written by fans and we all want them to stand out!**

* * *

The morning after was always just as bad as the night before.

It was always dark and cold and lonely.

It hurt and hurt and hurt.

His limbs were oft torn with muscle and sinew ripped apart, his bones broken and his blood everywhere.

He could smell the blood. It was so strong, that tangy, tinny, metallic smell. He craved it the night before – that's why it was there – but now it made him sick.

Whatever hard, unforgiving surface he'd managed to finally succumb on was always sticky and he had trouble rolling over (of the times he was sprawled on his back) to his side so he could sick up.

More blood. More blood came up; and acid and flesh – _his flesh_. He would retch until there was nothing more to give up and then he would continue heaving uncontrollably as his body shook from the morning-after fever.

The hurt would tire him out again soon and he would rest until that gracious, kind, wonderfully, saintly matron would come and heal his wounds.

The soft, warm, crackly magic would right his bones and knit his muscles and sinew back together. His blood would be banished away from the floors and the walls and from his body and he would drink that wonderfully bittersweet potion that filled him right back up again.

She would take away his hurt and give him warm, salty broth to get rid of that awful rusty taste in his mouth as she sewed him back together again, muttering under her breath and doting on him like the motherly matron she was.


	11. Memory

**One of my favourite parts in the HP series is Snape's memories.**

* * *

It took a while for Lily to believe him. About magic, that is. But after she realized that his "you're a witch" was not meant as a cruel comment but as a wonderful eye-opener, she took to Severus as he told her everything under the sun about the Wizarding World.

Of course, Petunia was always there, lurking just in hearing distance, sometimes with a fascinated, awe-struck look but more often with a grim glare.

Petunia was the one who called Lily a freak. As if Petunia wasn't one herself.

She also called him a freak. A greasy, dirty, freaky boy who lived in that old dirty house down Spinner's End.

But it didn't matter because Lily chose him after all. And not Petunia.

Then school started and that horrid Potter stole away his Lily.

They didn't hang out as much. She was a brave and loyal Gryffindor and he was a slimy, sneaky Slytherin.

Their friendship drifted and soon they had graduated.

Lily married that blasted Potter and he was left to his Potions and Dark Magic and his loneliness.

Then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone. She was gone.

Her home was destroyed and quiet and cold. She lay in the nursery, the Potter's sprog crying in his crib.

Lily was gone, dead, forever and now she was just a memory.


	12. Insanity

**One of my favourite places in the HP world is St. Mungo's~**

* * *

Frank and Alice Longbottom were two of St. Mungo's sweetest permanent residents. And their dear son, Ned was it?, was a sweetheart as well.

The staff of Floor Four all loved caring for the couple. It was a shame really what had happened to them, but the situation was always made into its best.

Neville would come every other day during the summer once he started school. At those visits, when his overbearing grandmother was up on the Tea Floor, he would sit between their beds or where ever the dear hearts were sitting and he would read to them from his Herbology textbooks or just talk with them, updating them on his friends and promising them he was keeping up the best he could on his schoolwork.

Frank and Alice never talked much and if they did it was only a word or two that they mumbled under their breath. They had a few phrases down though.

When Neville first arrived for his visits, they would say a "good morning" no matter the time of day. Second, was "we l-love you," which they told him periodically through his stays. Lastly was his name. Frank would chatter nonsensically and most of the staff just nodded and ahah-ed when he did, but no one could deny that they never forgot their son's name.


	13. Misfortune

**There was not enough Hedwig!mourning in the book/movie...**

* * *

There were seven Harrys now, but the humans couldn't fool me. I would never forget my human.

He went with the large one, the half-human. They left in a large, loud, puttering machine – most unlike the brooms and dragons like the others.

Then suddenly, above the clouds, there were even more people. There was an obvious tension. Something was wrong. They were angry, but it was controlled. They were looking for my Harry.

The seven Harrys went in every direction.

My Harry went forward.

Beams of light, curses, hexes, jinxes, zoomed everywhere, every which way. Some of the bad ones were hit and they fell from their brooms, down to the streets below.

There was a loud revving and my Harry was leaning over the large one, barely controlling the puttering machine as he tried to steer out of the way of greens and reds.

Then bellow him, a man pointed one of those horrid wands that never meant anything good for my Harry and a green beam shot out of it, racing towards him.

Harry was dodging other curses and did not see the one headed straight for him.

I flew before him just a few seconds before it could hit him.

The light didn't hurt and I know he wasn't hurt, so I don't understand why Harry screamed.


	14. Smile

**Yes, Smile _is_ the prompt.**

* * *

Kreacher was screaming horrendously in his ear as the poor house-elf continued drinking the potion in seemingly endless cupfuls.

The cave was getting dark as his _Lumos_ charm was depleting. The black water rippled ominously and he just knew there was something, something underneath it. The chain for the boat was invisible again and he was a bit frightened at the aspect of having to inch near the water's edge to grope into the empty air and trying not to slip.

"Please Master!" Kreacher screamed as he finished the next cup. "Please dear, young Master! Kreacher is hurting too much! Too much, Master!"

"I'm sorry; Kreacher, just one more and this one will make all the hurt go away, yeah?" Regulus scooped the last of the potion into the small cup and put it to the elf's lips. "This one will make you feel all better, Kreacher, I promise."

"Thank you Master, thank you!" Kreacher cried as he drank the potion messily.

As soon as it was gone, Regulus slipped the golden locket from his pocket and placed it inside the crystal bowl. Instantly, the bowl filled back with the clear potion. He tried to reach the locket, but his fingers only sifted through the potion. He nodded rightly.

Kreacher was still moaning and crying on the wet stones and Regulus conjured a warm blanket for him, promising the elf he would never have to drink the potion again.

"Now sit here while I get the boat, Kreacher." The elf nodded, shaking and whimpering.

Regulus inched towards the water, straining his ear at every sound that the cave produced. The water was rippling still and there was a distant _plink_, _plink_, _plink_-ing of stale water dripping off a stalactite somewhere.

The rope would be a few inches past the water's edge, just far enough that he had to swing his arm out above the water as he reached for it.

Regulus's heart was pounding in his ears. There was something in the water and it was coming nearer, he just knew it. He could feel it; the hairs on his neck and arms standing on end.

Then, Kreacher cried out again and he slipped. Regulus fell back onto the hard stone.

"What?"

Kreacher pointed out into the darkness. "Kreacher thought he saw something, Master. Truly. Honestly. Something in the waters."

There was something.

It was pale and slimy and… dead.

Then there was another and another more. More and more pale little hands (it looked like) popped out of water, surrounding the tiny makeshift island.

They drew closer, the hands wading through the water and finally, once they were near enough, they grasped and groped for Regulus and Kreacher.

One caught Regulus by the ankle as he scrambled from his frozen stupor back to the crystal basin. He kicked and hit at the hands as more and more grabbed onto him.

"Kreacher!" he screeched. "Kreacher! Go! Go back to Grimmauld Place and hide the locket I gave you. Put it somewhere only a Black would find it, Kreacher! Go!"

The hands had now turned into arms and shoulders and heads. Kreacher was shrieking, trying to pull his Master back away from the offending limbs, but Infieri of all ages were trying to pull him into the water. Their horrid red eyes and their slimy bodies were everywhere.

"Remember the note, Kreacher!"

And just before he was pulled under, Kreacher Disapparated with a _crack_!


	15. Silence

**I don't think I understand Merope or her family very well...**

* * *

The Riddle House had been silent for years. The town of Little Hangleton knew that. Big Hangleton knew it. And even the expansive fields full of baaing sheep knew it.

But it wasn't something that was new. Riddle House had always been on the quieter side, even when burly old Mr. Riddle, his brawny son, and his grown, flighty daughter had inhabited it.

Mr. Riddle liked his privacy and he knew how to get it. See, Mr. Riddle was something of a wizard. And like any wizard who appreciated his privacy as much as Mr. Riddle did, he knew a fair few silencing charms.

On the inside of the Riddle House, it was either one of two things: silent or deafening. Either one never lasted long so really Riddle House could be one of three things or maybe all three things at once: noisy, deafening, or quiet.

Quiet was the eye of the storm, the intangible transition from calm to chaos; nice to bad; bearable to insufferable.

Quiet was what happened when Merope, Mr. Riddle's grown, flighty daughter dropped a pan or screwed up her sewing or just couldn't perform a good enough scouring charm on the drab walls or shabby carpets or stained ceilings.

It was noisy after those innumerable incidences and poor grown, flighty Merope knew that well. Her father, a man who loved his privacy and had placed many a silencing charm around their house so as to ward off any filthy Muggles from listening in on his family, would snap and shout and snarl, cursing her near-Squib abilities, her uselessness, her incompetence, filling the house with rage and terror while outside no-one would be none-the-wiser.


	16. Questioning

**A Spy in the Order.**

* * *

Peter stopped coming to the meetings as often as he used to about a year after we graduated. None of us blamed him; he was a shy, timid sort of guy who wasn't very good at handling those kinds of stressful goings-on.

Severus started attending more and _that_ was what got people talking.

It was obvious, they said. The Slytherin is spying on the Order for Him. And who could blame them. Nearly all the Slytherins who had graduated lately had become a Death Eater or had been somehow affiliated with the Death Eaters.

Then there was Remus. He was the most suspected out of everyone. "It's the werewolf," they said when they thought he wasn't listening; or even when they knew he was listening. And Remus, the same quiet, kind, assiduous Remus that I knew at Hogwarts just took all their loathing and glares and nasty comments in stride.

The Order just wasn't what it used to be. Now that there was a seed of doubt, everyone was questioning everyone else about their loyalties. And the three suspected men all took it differently.

Peter, though no-one ever said it aloud, became twitchy and nervous at the meetings he was able to make after long bouts of disappearance. His stutter that the Marauders had managed to fix in their third year was back and with full force. He couldn't say a single sentence without st-st-stuttering and he definitely could not look anyone in the eye.

Severus never said anything in the meetings and he never missed a one. Of course, he did contribute to the Order - just silently as I had caught him speaking in hushed tones with Dumbledore after one of the meetings had ended. While everyone else was giving him doubtful glances, I always thought Severus was doing something even more dangerous for the Order than even what James or Sirius was.

Shortly after his suspicion began, Remus started disappearing like Peter did. It was odd, I thought, because Sirius (who was unusually protective of Remus) never batted an eye when the seat next to him was empty. Surely, I thought, Remus couldn't be the spy. His absences made it too obvious; but maybe the obviousness of it all was what made it so convincing.


	17. Blood

**The Shrieking House is all the way in (outside) Hogsmeade, the Hospital Wing is somewhere on the first floor of Hogwarts. There's a whole Quidditch Pitch (plus more) between Hogsmeade and the Willow tunnel entrance, a front lawn and however many corridors between the front doors to the Hospital Wing. ...Basically, it's a _long_ walk to where Remus transforms... **

* * *

Padfoot knew there would be blood. Padfoot knew there was blood. But Padfoot couldn't understand why that was such a bad thing. He tried licking the wounds, a natural reaction he thought, but more and more blood just leaked out of the-the… the _hole_ in Moony's stomach.

Padfoot transformed back into Sirius after a silent Moony transformed back into an unconscious Remus and the blood kept pouring.

"Remus, Remus, Remus," Sirius chanted as he tore his shirt off and tried to stop it, to stem it, to something it!

"Remus, Remus, Remus." Padfoot kept one hand on the shirt as he tried for a pulse at Remus's neck. It was shallow and Remus was paling far more than Sirius liked. He was cold and clammy and knocked out something good.

"P-Prongs! James! God dammit! Someone! Get Madam Pomfrey!"

The stag in question opened up the trap-door that lead to the tunnel out of the horrid house they were in. "Padfoot? Is Moony ok-"

"Go get Madam Pomfrey! Go!"

James took a moment to hesitate and glance at Remus who looked… dead. Dead except for the blood that was pooling around his two friends in buckets.

Behind him, Peter peeked his head up through the door and gasped.

"Go!" Sirius shouted. Remus was getting paler.

James pushed past Peter and ran off down the tunnel, cursing Dumbledore for making it so far away from the school.


	18. Rainbow

**Rainbows! There are so many different colours of the rainbow~ **

* * *

Lily thought that the students at Hogwarts were all going to be like Sev. Kind of scary at first, but real nice once you got to know them.

That was, of course, before she actually got to Hogwarts.

On the Hogwarts Express, for her very first time, she and Sev met a good number of interesting people.

Potter, for one, was nothing like Sev. Potter was loud and proud and most of all, stupid. Thinking he knew everything when he obviously didn't. Who was he kidding when he called Sev Snivellus? That's just plain rude!

And that Black boy! Ooh, how he made her blood boil. Spouting off pure-blooded mania like everyone else was below him. He actually made her not want to be in Slytherin with Sev. Maybe the two of them could be in Ravenclaw together?

The Pettigrew boy was kind of annoying. As soon as he saw the two of them, he'd latched on to them until Sev had chased him out, encouraging him (in a slightly crude manner) to go find other friends and to leave them alone.

Alice was nice and pretty. She was in the same predicament as Lily. The two girls were instant best friends, they liked to think. But, Alice didn't care much for Sev. No one did for that matter. Lily wondered about that.

There was a third year boy who was very nice and very scary looking, but he introduced himself as Kingsley and welcomed Lily, Sev and Alice to Hogwarts and told them he hoped they had a wonderful time.

The three of them met Remus Lupin at the boats. He was small and timid and shivering although it wasn't that cold outside. When they (Alice and Lily that is) invited him into their boat, he thanked them profusely and sat as far from them as he could while still seeming grateful.

The people Lily met in her first year at Hogwarts were all one in a million. No two had the same personality. They were unique, like her mother had taught her to think of people.

And most definitely, they were not alike at all.


	19. Gray

**So, I noticed a few chapters ago, I put "Merope Riddle" as her maiden name... Just ignore that little folly~**

* * *

If any one word could be used to describe the life of Merope Gaunt, it would be gray. It described her boring, miserable life to a T.

The weather where she lived was always overcast and it was always cold and wet.

The little house she lived in with her father (and her brother, before he'd moved out) was quiet and old and drab.

The dresses she wore that had never been pretty or colourful were always dull and uninspiring.

Even her appearance was boring and lifeless.

Yes, gray was a perfect description of her dreary life in Little Hangleton.

Even the little drop of colour that did manage to worm its way into her life ended up lackluster and jaded.


	20. Fortitude

**I absolutely hate this one, but what can you do?  
And, a tidbit, the wonderful maker of this series, Mrs. JK Rowling, is a proud member of Gryffindor House herself~**

* * *

Sometimes, when First Years found themselves Sorted into the red and gold Gryffindor House, they were awash with wonder and confusion.

Why on Earth had the Hat Sorted them into Gryffindor? Surely they weren't brave, or courageous, or strong willed!

Some were even so afraid of spiders. How can a Gryffindor be afraid of measly old spiders? Godric Gryffindor surely wasn't. So how could they be?

But as the years past, and the little First Years grew up into Fifth and Sixth and Seventh Years, they finally understood why it was that the Hat had placed them in such an honourable House.

They were brave. They were courageous. They were strong willed. They battled and dueled alongside their friends in tough times. They fought against the horrid Slytherins. They belonged to Gryffindor and they were not afraid.


	21. Vacation

**=) Who doesn't love old Mrs. Figg? **

* * *

Every year during the summer holidays, the Durselys liked to take Dudley on a 'well-deserved break'. And every year during the summer holidays, Harry would find himself holed up in Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling, cat-infested house.

Although the place never stood up to where ever it was the Dursely's ended up going to (Guernsey, Majorca, France, Germany) it _did_ stand up to the cupboard under the stairs. At least Mrs. Figg let him sleep in the guestroom.

As the years went by and Harry saw more and more of Mrs. Figg's house, the more and more it became like a vacation of his own.

Sometimes Mrs. Figg would make Harry go down to the market for cat food or veggies. Sometimes she let him play at the park while she fed the pigeons. And sometimes she even let him stay up an hour after bedtime and watch a few cartoons on the telly.

Granted, Mrs. Figg always made him do his holiday work when he stayed with her, he didn't think it was such a bad place to stay. Of course, Harry didn't mind doing his holiday work. She didn't make him do it 'not _too_ efficiently' and she would even help him if he got stuck on Maths, his worst subject.

There were also the chores that Harry _didn't_ have to do. Mrs. Figg didn't make him cook breakfast (unless he wanted to, but she was always right there, making sure he didn't hurt himself) or weed the garden or mow the lawn or polish the silver. Mrs. Figg did all that and all Harry had to do was make sure he didn't make a mess.

But like all good things and all good vacations, they had to end. So after the week or so that the Durselys had left to go on their own vacation, Harry always found himself having to leave his little reprieve and go back to sleeping in his cupboard under the stairs, cooking the breakfast, weeding the garden, mowing the lawn, polishing the silver, and all the other things the Durselys made him do.


	22. Cat

**I have a pile of these shorts that have been sitting and as I'll be cooking all day tomorrow, I'll post them up for the holidays~ (Also, I am going to start working on His Little Red Cap so don't worry~)  
**

* * *

Mimsy loved her human just as her human loved her. Lily was a wonderful person. Not just because she let Mimsy have the left over fish or gave her copious amounts of catnip, no, Lily was just an all around good person.

Her husband, on the other hand, Mimsy hated. Along with that Sirius fellow. Those two just rubbed her the wrong way. Literally.

The two of them were always treading on poor Mimsy's tail or knocking over her food bowl or turning her lovely fur into wretched colours.

The Wolf didn't fare too well with her either. He smelled Dark and he gave off menacing waves. Though, Mimsy had to say, he was kind and didn't stomp on her tail or turn into the wretched wolf and bark at her like Sirius did. With him, she could make an exception and laze on his lap like with Lily.

Harry was almost kind. It's not like she could blame him. Mimsy understood that he was a baby and that babies couldn't be held accountable for their actions, so she would put up with his tail-pulling and rough pets just until he got a bit older.


	23. Happiness

**Even thought I'm not really into the whole RemusxTonks thing, I do love the fact that they created Teddy, so in part, I must allow this pairing passage. (Also, I really love this one!)  
**

* * *

Harry wasn't the only one who noticed Nymphadora's Patronus change. Or her change in appearance and attitude, for that matter.

Lupin first noticed Tonks's change at the dinner table at 12 Grimmauld Place just after the summer holidays began after Harry's fifth year.

She became more clingy and touchy and flirty. She focused on Remus.

Now, Remus wasn't a vain or conceited person. No, no he was far from it. Remus, in fact, had a bit of a self-confidence issue. Spending a good three decades as part of one of the most despised minorities of the Wizarding World had given Remus a particularly bad case of low self-esteem.

But Nymphadora was very, shall we say, adamant.

Her hand stayed on his shoulder a second longer, her smiles lingered, her eyes shone mischievously.

Then she asked; the one question Remus had never expected to be directed at himself. The same question that had been asked by countless girls (and a few hopeful boys) in his years at Hogwarts to James and Sirius.

"So-uh, Lupin," Nymphadora smiled and her hair turned a light shade of pink. "Would you mind going out with me?"

In lieu of an answer, Lupin choked on his orange juice and Mrs. Weasley patted his back spastically as she glanced at Tonks who was apologizing just as spastically.

"Honestly, Remus, be careful. I should say it will be a sad day when a man dies from drinking juice," Mrs. Weasley said.

"So, what do you think? Was that an 'of course, you bloody gorgeous woman!' choke or an 'are you a blithering idiot?' choke?" Nymphadora asked once Remus could breath properly again.

This time, Remus blushed a deep red and mumbled something incoherent until Mrs. Weasley got the cue and left the kitchen.

"Ah, Nymp—"

"Tonks. Call me Tonks."

"Nymphadora, I do hope you are just joking. I do indeed think we could all use a good laugh in these dark times."

"Joking!" Tonks's hair turned a dark red as she nearly shouted. "Lupin, I'm asking you out, you daft man!" She gave a laugh as she calmed.

"…me out…" Remus shook his head. "You can't really be serious."

"No, that was my cousin. But, yes, I am being very serious. I, Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks, ask you, Remus John Lupin, out. On a date. As more than friends. Or, at least, I'm trying to."

Remus shook his head again. "I'm too old for you."

"Thirteen years at the most."

"I was in my third year of Hogwarts when you were born."

"So? I don't care."

"Sirius would have."

"Sirius isn't here."

"…"

"Sorry. But I'm still serious."

"I'm dirt poor. No, in fact, I'm poorer than dirt."

"Money isn't everything."

"But it does provide for a number of things."

"That's thinking way down the line. See? You know you want to!"

"I'm dangerous."

"Psh. You couldn't hurt a fly. You'd shoo it out a window after giving it something to eat, whatever it is flies eat, and a place to sleep first too."

Smirking at her comment, Remus said, "That's not what I meant. I'm a—"

"A what? An amazingly kind man who looks, for the life of himself, dead lonely?"

"A werewolf."

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "That's what you're worried about? Do I look like some fair maiden who can't take care of herself?"

"No, but—"

"And I hardly doubt you let yourself run wild on full moon nights. It's not like I've not thunk this through. Unlike you Gryffindors and contrary to common belief, us Hufflepuffs actually think things through and don't rush headlong into things without plans like a bunch of duffers."

"Well I see you've taken my 'no' into account as you've been pushing so hard."

Tonks smirked.

"But I'm still saying no. And you won't be able to change my answer. I'm too old, poor, and dangerous for you."

Tonks nodded knowingly. "Fine. I accept defeat, but only for now. This is all a part of my Ask Lupin Out plan that has many steps. What I've just done is put the idea into your head." Tonks smiled again. "And between you and me, I'm still a Black and us Blacks always get what we want."


	24. Expectations

**Uh... I've had this one done for ages. I hate outrageously abusive!Dursleys and ones who made three years old!Harry cook and do other things a normal three year old would not be able to accomplish efficiently. Really? Three? -sighs- But even my Dursley family is horribly overused with the ton of chores and obvious favouritism. (Though, I do like the _not too efficiently_ part.)**

* * *

In the mornings, Harry was expected to be washed and dressed and sweeping the kitchen and patio before breakfast, then he would set the table and afterwards he would wash the dishes.

During the weekdays, Harry was expected to do this and be ready and in the car early (but not _too_ early) so Aunt Petunia didn't have to wait for him while he "lounged around."

At school, Harry was expected to mind his teachers and do his work swiftly and efficiently. (But not _too_ efficiently, Aunt Petunia always reminded him.)

In the lunchroom, Harry was expected to eat his lunch and not play with his food. But, Harry liked to pride himself on not having to be told that often as he never let food go to waste.

On the playground, Harry was expected to not mess with the bigger kids or bully Duddy Diddydums, but he wasn't sure how that one came to be as the big kids didn't want to play with scrawny old Harry and Duddy Diddydums was the one who bullied.

After school, Harry was expected to finish his homework quickly (and not _too_ efficiently) so he could get on with his afternoon chores.

In the afternoon, Harry was expected to weed the garden (in the front yard and back), dust the sitting room and the bedrooms, tidy Dudley's room, sweep upstairs and down, shake the dirt out of the rugs, and set the table and clean the dishes after dinner.

In the evenings, Harry was expected to be quiet (like any other time of day) and in his cupboard after dinner was cleaned up while the Dursely's sat together in the sitting room and enjoyed the telly before bed.

On the weekends, (once he was old enough) Harry was expected to mow the lawn and (if Aunt Petunia was feeling particularly lazy that day) water the flowers, clean and fold and put away the laundry, dust the curtains, polish the silver, and any other menial task Aunt Petunia could think up to keep Harry busy.

Harry thought he was expected to do a lot of things. But couldn't understand why Dudley wasn't expected to wash the dishes or fold the laundry or pick up his own room. Harry guessed that he was just better at those things than Dudley and that's why Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon made him do them.

But then, if Harry was so good at sweeping the house and mowing the lawn and dusting the rooms, he couldn't comprehend why he couldn't get surprises or extra dessert or even just a bigger cupboard when he did all those things right and all Dudley had to do was bring home a C+.


	25. Hold my Hand

**D'awww  
**

* * *

He really only just wanted to hold dear Moony's hand.

If he could obtain that tiny gesture, he knew his heart would swell and be satisfied, no matter how small a thing it seemed.

Padfoot was easy to please so it shouldn't have been that hard of a thing to accomplish. Just grab Moony's hand and never let go. One, two, three!

But, it seemed like the powers-at-be wanted to toy and humiliate poor Padfoot in his quest for undying happiness.

Every reach ended up with a handful of air or table or Wormtail, never any Moony. Though, Padfoot never stopped trying.

He tried tricking Fate with his clever plans that usually involved Prongs flying into the Great Hall with Padfoot dragging behind him to be shoved into Moony, but his hand always missed.

Three months it went on like that. Padfoot trying desperately to do the one thing that he thought he would never be able to live without until one day he gave up. If the gods who laughed at him didn't want him to hold hands with his dear, lovely, smart, fantastical, caring, mysterious Moony, then he didn't want to anyway.

(Padfoot thought that if he proclaimed this loudly enough to the heavens that some Force would finally allow him to hold his Moony's hand.)

And it worked – sort of.

Moony had been sitting with Lily-Flower underneath a beech tree, revising for exams when Padfoot had decided to shout on the front lawns of Hogwarts Castle.

Lily-Flower snickered and playfully pushed embarrassed, red Moony's shoulder as the two watched from behind a large root at the spectacle that Padfoot was making of himself.

While Padfoot was still on his knees, trying to remember how exactly it was that those crazy nuns in that Muggle movie Prongs and he had watched had crossed themselves and prayed for his wish to come true, he was pulled off the ground and found that his left hand now held a particularly warm and soft hand not so unfamiliar to him.

Padfoot looked up from his crazed crossing and found Moony attached to him by the hand, his face a tad red, but smiling nonetheless.

His heart pounding and his palm (his Moony-palm of all palms) getting a bit sweaty, Padfoot quickly swept his Moony into a tight embrace, girly hugging and masculinity be damned down the throat of Fate, his hand still clutching Moony's.


	26. Illusion

**D'awww  
**

* * *

He'd told Harry socks. Socks were what he saw when he looked into the Mirror of Erised. But that wasn't true; even though Albus truly did love a good pair of socks.

No, instead he saw himself with his mother and his father. They smiled and looked for all the part a happily married couple. His brother Aberforth and baby sister Ariana were young and alive and well and smiling too. Then behind him, behind his reflection, there was Gellert with his arm around his waist, smiling just as big as everyone else.

His family, _his_ family was all alive and happy and no one was dead or sick or angry or hungry for power.


	27. I Can't

**It's my head-canon that Prof. Kettleburn didn't leave just because of 'loss of limb' but because of Remus. I mean, he _is_ the Care of Magical Creatures Professor. He of all people would have some kind of prejudice or strong opinion on werewolves.**

* * *

"I can't. I refuse. I absolutely refuse."

"Come now, Professor. I am sure you can put aside silly prejudices and continue your work. I seem to remember a favourite student of yours—"

"That was before I-I knew! It's no more a student of mine and I refuse to work alongside a creature of that sort. I, of all people, know exactly what it's capable of. I should have used it as example in class! I quit, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore sighed. "Alright, I assure you, Professor, you will receive compensation for such short a notice of resignation. I do hope you find a more fanciful job."

Kettleburn nodded once and then left with his trunk packed to burst floating behind him.

The Heads of House and Lupin, who had been sitting aside of the conversation, were silent. Lupin especially looked uncomfortable and slightly shameful.

He cleared his throat painfully and said in a small voice, "I'm sorry for the trouble, Professor."

Severus snorted.

"Don't be sorry, my lad," Dumbledore said. "I was expecting Professor Kettleburn to retire soon anyway. He did seem sort of worried for his remaining limbs. And," he said with a wink. "Call me Albus. I've not been your Professor for years."

Lupin nodded sullenly. "Yes, Albus."

"Yes, well, now that we are now a teacher short once again, I'd like to finish this lovely breakfast before setting out again. Tuck in all, the house-elves will be in a state should their meal go to waste."


	28. Words

**Don't own HP.**

* * *

"Can you do it, Harry? Can you do it? Say: Pad-foot!"

Remus glanced over the top of his book to Sirius who was crouched over baby Harry as he tried in vain to get his little godson to say his name.

"Padfoot! Say Padfoot, Harry!"

Harry just giggled and reached up to pull at the loose strands of hair that Sirius hadn't managed to tie up in a ponytail.

"I don't think he's going to say it today, Pads."

"Shows what you know, Moony. Harry's about to have a break through. I just know it!" And Sirius went back to cajoling Harry.

Shaking his head, Remus went back to his fiction and tried to ignore the annoying little "Come on, Harry"s, that Sirius kept up with.

A good hour later, during which Padfoot had effectively worn out both himself and Harry, Lily and James could be heard Apparating in the back garden.

"Where's Mama's little Harry?" Lily cried as she came through the door.

Remus held up his finger to his lips. "Sirius tired him out trying to get him to say his name."

Sirius was lying on the couch, curled around Harry as the two slept. Harry sucked the thumb of one hand as the other hand clenched onto Sirius's shirt.


	29. Rejection

**Almost New Years! Lot's of changes have been occurring in my life, most good, some iffy. So why not end with some rejection for my dear old favourite character, Remmy? (I just noticed he's been my favourite character since third grade... ;3)**

* * *

Remus sighed heavily as he flopped down onto the couch in the Potter's home. He'd had a long day and he was tired and just wanted to sit and relax for a while before he had to go out and have a go at another long day tomorrow.

Lily was in the kitchen, fixing tea, and Peter was with her, picking up snacks for the group of friends. James and Sirius were busy playing with baby Harry who had just figured out how to scoot around the floor that very day, doubling his mobility.

"What's with the sigh, Mr. Moony?" James asked. He was on his back now, holding Harry up with his feet, the baby giggling madly as he felt the sensation of flight.

"Just tired is all. Long day today."

Sirius nodded. "I hear ya. Auror training's been pretty intense lately."

Remus nodded curtly and smiled stiffly. "Yeah."

"Now don't tell me you're only tired Remus," Lily said as she came in the living room, Peter trailing behind her, a biscuit in his mouth. "I know Mr. Lupin doesn't tire that easily." She smiled as she sat down next to her friend, offering him a cuppa.

Remus took the tea gratefully, adding in his desired amount of sugar and nibbled on a chocolate scone. "It's nothing really; nothing major anyways."

"Don't tell us you didn't get that job, Moons," Sirius said softly. He looked at the brunet with his puppy-dog eyes. "That shop's been looking for someone competent to hire for months."

Remus smiled wryly. "Well, obviously, werewolves aren't competent _enough_." He took another bite of the scone. "I was turned out as soon as he saw that big, red W on my résumé.

"That's seven jobs turned down since the beginning of the year. Not including the three people who were too afraid to even let me in to apply."

Harry, immune to the situation, began laughing madly for no reason. He scooted along towards his mother and then held his arms up to Remus crying, "Moo! Moo!"

Remus, who'd been fighting to not cry like a little girl, cracked a smile and swung Harry up, getting him to laugh even more. "Did you miss your Uncle Moony, Harry? He hasn't been here very often, has he?"


	30. Tower

**What is this? A PWP? Nope~ Well... A tame, none explicit PWP. ;3 Tower = Setting **

**I don't own HP, but I do hope you enjoy what I've done to it's innocent characters~**

* * *

Remus hooked his ankles together around Kingsley as he climbed on top of him. Feather-light kisses were sprayed over his everything and they left tingling sensations that lasted for seconds afterwards. His heart beat steady and fast in his chest. He'd never done anything like this before, and he knew he would never be able to have it for long, but he did want to enjoy it while it lasted. Even if just this once.

Kingsley's skin was rougher than his own. The scars on Remus's body were smooth and he had little feeling in them, but the expansive touches King gave to him made up for it.

He was bigger than Remus as well, taller and heavier and more muscular. He nearly dwarfed everyone in school. But he was gentle and that's all that mattered at that moment.

"You're so beautiful, Remus," Kingsley whispered into Remus's neck as he kissed it.

It was not the first time he'd said that, but Remus still felt his eyes welling up and he smiled. "You're so handsome as well, King," he blubbered.

Kingsley stopped his touches and kisses to look at Remus. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Remus sniffed and smiled stupidly. "I-I'm just really happy right now." He wiped at his tears. "Sorry for being so girly. I just—I've never done this before and I feel so happy."

Kingsley smirked softly. "You're not being girly, Rem. Just… Sentimental."

Remus chuckled a bit. "Let's continue then."

The two kissed and Kingsley slowly prepared the both of them for the most intimate of joining. Remus gasped into the tender kiss at the foreign feeling, but he did not break his gaze with Kingsley. The larger teen was panting slightly and they were both very hot despite the winter chill coming through the one open window.

Moonlight filtered in to fall across the two as they lay as one.

The moment was perfect, Remus thought. All but for the moonlight that he despised so much. But even that couldn't take away too much from how good and happy and right he felt as Kingsley worked on top of him to make them both feel that same level of good and happy and right.

Kingsley's voice was rough like everything else about him, but he spoke gently and with lovely words that masked his masculine tone.

Their chests heaved as the moment crescendo. Sweat clung to them as well as their musk. Kingsley came with a slightly loud grunt. He clung onto Remus, calling his name. Remus clamped down on Kingsley's body and mind, pulling him in deeper and tighter than before.

As the events swiftly tapered off into pants and gasps for breath, the two boys lay back on the bed, letting the cool, wintery weather cool them off.

"T-That was… lovely," Remus was grasping for words as his mind was still on its own personal high.

Kingsley chuckled. "Yeah. I'd say it was."


End file.
